from one to the next
by chessboardsandcheckmates
Summary: Love has always been a constant in Regina's life. And love, she has found, has many different definitions. (FairyQueen)


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Author's Note: I tried to make everything as canon as possible, but there will definitely be some parts that stray further from the realm of possibility than others.**

**...**

_Henry cries for ten hours straight the day she brings him home._

_Regina will remember the panic, the desperation, the bottles and the pacifiers and the ringing in her ears._

_But she will also remember when the crying finally stops, when Henry's big green eyes, puffy from hours of wailing, fix on hers and remain there, silently drinking her in._

_It is not much later when Henry falls asleep in her arms, his tiny hand wrapped firmly around her thumb._

_And Regina's heart, black and shriveled inside of her chest, tightens._

_And pounds and pounds and pounds._

…

Cora does not believe in feelings.

"They are a weakness," she says. "Childish." And Regina listens, absorbs, and accepts this as the truth.

But every so often Cora uses the word love.

Only with Regina, only when they are alone.

And if love is not about feelings, if love is something else entirely, Regina is not quite sure what it is.

…

Prince Henry is not a man of much substance.

But he is a doting father and a perfect playmate, and Regina absolutely adores him.

He takes Regina riding for the first time when she is six. The horse is large and irritable and Regina is absolutely terrified of him. She refuses to mount him, so her father sits on his knees in front of her and tries to soothe her fears.

"I love you," he tells her, and presses kisses all over her face. "I won't let anything bad happen to you."

And when Regina climbs on top of Rocinante and pulls hesitantly at the reigns, her father's words settle inside of her, and stick.  
…

Regina is eight years old when she steals a spell book from her mother's library.

Cora's punishment is severe: Regina is locked in a dark, dusty tower for three days. No food, no water, no sunlight.

Regina bangs on the door for hours, begging for her mother's forgiveness, for her mercy, until her voice is hoarse and broken. Until all of the fight has drained out of her.

The hours tick by. The darkness surrounds her.

And Regina, starving and shaking against the cold wooden floor, wonders where her father is now.  
….

Daniel is a gift.

It makes Regina nervous, how much joy he has brought into her life. Because happiness must be earned. It is a reward, a prize for the victors, her mother has always said so, and Regina does not think she has done anything to earn him.

But Daniel tells her that he loves her, like that is the only thing that matters, like that one word should be enough to wipe away all of her fears. And Regina is surprised to find that it does.

But a part of her is always waiting, too.

For the other shoe to drop.

…..

Cora takes Daniel's life right in front of her, and Regina, her heart aching and raging inside of her chest, is not in the least bit surprised.

Because if there is one thing she's always known, it's that happiness comes with a price. And this is hers.

She will marry the king and she will live out her days in the palace.

Her mother will count it as a victory.

…..

After Daniel is dead, Regina swears she will never do magic.

But when Rumpelstiltsken calls to her, tempts her with the darkness, she does not resist. It is a way to fight back, she thinks, and love is all about winning.

"And I won't become like my mother?" she asks, hands crossed tightly at her chest. The imp giggles and smiles at her, slow and secretive, as he spins and spins and spins.

"That, Dearie, is entirely up to you."  
…

Rumpelstiltsken tries to replace her with a new apprentice.

So Regina rips the woman's heart from her chest and crushes it.

Her master is almost giddy with excitement, and they continue on with her studies, as though there hadn't been an interruption.

But Regina wakes up the morning after in a panic and rushes to the nearest mirror.

It is her own reflection staring back at her. Young. Uncertain. Not at all like her mother's.

It is an irrational fear, she knows that. They have never been the same.

But every morning from then on she checks, every line, every wrinkle, every detail. Just to be sure.  
…

Regina is already queen when she meets her savior.

A small, green fairy who offers her a second chance at happiness.

Their relationship spans a period of three weeks before it blows up in smoke.

And during those weeks Tink is a model friend. She listens and she cares and she holds Regina's hand and whispers silly secrets in her ear. And Regina doesn't mind that it's a fantasy, that it can't last. Because Tink is different. Special.

And Regina feels very affectionate towards her.  
…

Tink stares at her in a way that Regina recognizes. In a way that makes her whole body tingle with excitement.

Regina does not stare. She has always been much more careful, much more conservative with her emotions. But sometimes, Tink's laugh is so charming, and her smile so disarming, that Regina forgets herself.

"I am happy when you are around," Tink says, once, when they are lying together staring up at the stars. It is surprisingly honest, and the laughter that had been bubbling up inside Regina's stomach moments ago dies down. "Sometimes, when you're with me, it feels as though...I can do anything."

Regina stares at her for a long time, but Tink's eyes remain fixed on the stars. And so Regina watches her, and memorizes every curl, every eyelash, every ounce of life in her.

"I'm grateful," Tink says, finally. "I'm just so grateful that I've found you."

"Yes," Regina murmurs. "I am grateful, too."

And her hand finds Tinkerbell's in the darkness.  
…

When the time comes to meet her true love, Regina does not go and find him. She runs instead.

And Tink does not understand why. She insists that Regina must have been nervous, afraid, even. But Regina knows the truth, deep down where she'll never admit it: she had hoped for the pixie dust to fail.

And the implications of that are…unacceptable.

She glances at Tink, sitting at the edge of her bed with her pretty, open face and her wide, insisting eyes, and Regina is terrified.

Powerless, even, and so she sends Tink away.

Because even if she is alone, Regina is still queen, and the only thing worse than loneliness is to be weak.  
…

At first Tink fights against it, tries to reason with her, but Regina can hurt when she needs to, can wound deeper than any weapon. And eventually Tink slips away, feet tinkling lightly on the wooden floor, and jumps from the open balcony.

All she leaves behind is a cloud of fairy dust.

And the sound of Regina's heart beating heavily in her ears.  
…

The years that pass in between are tedious.

Regina becomes a capable witch, and even though it has turned her into a monster, it is at least something she can be proud of.

Somewhere along in her training the genie falls in love with her, and Regina thinks it is absolutely ludicrous. But it is also useful and whether or not she still has a soul, Regina has always had a brain.

It is almost too easy to manipulate him, an ease that comes with years of practice, and before long the king is dead. And although it's what she's wanted for quite some time, although the victory is sweet, Regina feels nothing.

And she understands, for the first time, what it really means to lose.  
…..

The curse comes with a price.

"The heart of the thing you love most."

Luckily, Regina is willing to pay it.

The loss is great, afterwards. When she buries her father in a long, ornate coffin and places a bouquet of red roses on top of it.

But while it is happening, when her hand curls inside of his chest, waiting to pull, Regina can only remember her own screams, how she suffered, how she cried out for her father.

And when he is dead at her feet, eyes still wide with surprise, Regina, for a split second, thinks that maybe a part of her revenge is already complete.

…..

The curse brings them all to a new world.

A world full of strangers. A world of familiar faces. And none of them remember. None except for the queen.

Regina pays close attention to the people who pass her on the street. To the owners of the shops and to the children and to the laborers as they wave to her from the sidewalks.

Her mother is missing, she is relieved to find. But other faces are missing, too.

…

Sometimes Regina reads through Henry's old picture books.

When he was a toddler, Henry worshipped her. And that love, that endless supply of affection, mended her heart one piece at a time, until it almost felt whole again.

Now that he is older, now that he has found another family and left her behind, he is breaking it instead.

And the loneliness, so unbearable, so sharp, lingers with her in the back of her mind.

Because Regina knows that even if they save him, even if they succeed in making it to Neverland, she will never truly have him back. And for Regina, for the woman who has nothing left to lose, that is the worst curse of all.

…

"Tinkerbell."

Hook says her name and Regina almost chokes on the air she's breathing.

"You know her?" Emma asks, and Regina could laugh, because the answer to that question is never so simple.

"Yes," she says, with a short, curt nod. "I do."  
…

When Tink steps out of the brush, Regina's heart perks up again, after so much time, and pitter patters inside of her chest.

"Why did you lie?" Tink asks, sounding about as lost as Regina feels, and Regina wants to ask if it wasn't obvious. If Tink really never knew.

"I was afraid," she says, instead, and it hides just enough to protect her.

…

Tinkerbell camps with them for two nights.

Two long, insufferable nights that Regina spends by the open fire. It isn't until the second night that Tink joins her.

"You never came back," Regina says. "After that night."

Tink considers it and then leans forward to poke at the fire.

"I couldn't. No wings."

"No…I suppose that's right."

"But I would have," Tink whispers, her expression softening considerably. "You know that."

And Regina feels a familiar warmth return to her.

…

In the end it is Regina who returns Henry's heart to his chest.

And even as he pushes her aside to run to Emma Swan, even as the sounds of victory ring out around her, Regina only hears the echo of her son's heart. Thumping, beat by beat by beat, assuring her that he's alive.

Tink rushes towards Regina and falls down beside her. Immediately her hand comes up to touch Regina's face. Regina soaks in the closeness.

"I was worried about you," Tink says.

"I'll be fine."

It isn't convincing and Regina isn't trying to be, but then, it's more hopeful than it is a lie.

…

Their second week back in Storybrooke, Tink asks Regina out on a date.

It is long and awkward, and Regina has never been good at these things.

But afterwards Tink takes her home and they spend hours curled up on Regina's bed, talking. About the past, about the present, about how all of the little pieces fit together. At one point Tink asks Regina why she didn't just turn Snow into a cockroach when she created her new world, and Regina laughs until her stomach aches.

"I love you," Tink says, when it's much later into the night, as she watches Regina fall into another fit of laughter. And it's not a huge declaration, it's not champagne and flowers and a hundred explosions, but for Regina, who has known love in a thousand different horrible ways, it is everything. And this, Regina thinks, for the first time, might be the right kind of love. The kind where nobody hurts and nobody has to win.

"Thank you," Regina whispers. She places her hand over Tink's heart as it pounds, loud and insistent, and surges forward to kiss her.

And Regina's own heart, which has only ever been good at shattering, fills and expands.

And beats on and on and on.


End file.
